


The French American

by Cyane



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bullying, Father-Son Relationship, Identity Issues, Rated for my filthy sailor mouth, sorry god, sorry lin, this will be about as historically accurate as the play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 01:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10629102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyane/pseuds/Cyane
Summary: Lafayette; Americans call him French, the French call him American. Honestly, Lafayette isn't sure who he is anymore, when neither country seems to want him.AKA a lot more h/c and plot than I am letting on based on this summary but probably still shit





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about history besides what I've heard in the play and some other sources,  
> pls just let's call this an AU and appreciate this shit for what it's worth
> 
> I want to write Hamilton fanfiction but I'm so insecure about my little-to-nothing knowledge and I want people to like it oh god please just write some pity comments ;o;
> 
> o also if you're french I'm so so sorry because I used google translate o god kill me I know so little about other cultures

Lafayette wasn't having a good day. 

Although, honestly, these days- there weren't any good days anymore. Soldiers were thankful to be alive, although some might think that death would be a mercy at that point. Usually Lafayette was the chipper one of the group, always enthusiastic and encouraging, keeping everyone in high spirits. 

It was draining. Especially on days like these, when everyone was drenched from the rain, freezing from the blasted wind, and extremely irate from the lack of morale. It was getting to Lafayette as well.

He was sitting on a rock at camp, close to a small fire, wishing he was back in France.

No. No, _no_ , he didn't wish that. Not at all. Lafayette mentally scolded himself for even thinking of something so selfish. He had risked everything to come to America, ignored the orders of King Louis, sneaked out of his own country in a disguise, fought tooth-and-nail to get where he was, and he had gotten what he had wanted. 

_I should be thankful,_ Lafayette reminded himself. 

The entirety of the camp was in a foul mood. And most soldiers disliked him anyhow, seeing as he had come from France. Lafayette didn't blame them for wanting true Americans as their commanders, but at the same time...

Wasn't he American, in the way that counted?

He was fighting for the very idea of the free country, he was an immigrant- and they had descended from immigrants. America was a country built on migration, and Lafayette felt that he was now a part of that. Besides, although Lafayette loved France, it wasn't as if he could go back anytime soon. 

There would be hell to pay, but Lafayette would leave that for later. Right now it was about America's freedom, not his bickering with King Louis.

Lafayette noticed three men, huddled a few feet away from himself, looking towards the fire and shivering violently. He was close enough to hear their conversation without intending to. 

"If this weather continues we'll be dead before morning," The man who sat in the middle grumbled. The other two gave halfhearted mutters of agreement. 

Feeling a pang of sympathy, Lafayette forced a kind smile in the man's direction. "Not to fear, _mon ami_ , the clouds seem to be clearing. The rain will be stopped by daylight. I remember back in France, the biting winters-"

The man made a sound akin to a growl, making Lafayette pause in surprise. 

"I don't give a _shit_ about France," he snarled, looking murderous. Lafayette's jaw snapped shut, his eyes narrowing angrily. The man's friends snickered along with him, all three scowling at the Frenchman. 

"We don't need your help, fighting in this war," One of them added.

Ah. A matter of pride. 

Lafayette sighed, his expression loosing its heat. He didn't want to start a fight with these men, just because everyone was in a sour mood. "I did not mean to imply anything, sir," Lafayette said slowly. "I only meant that we should not loose our hopes of winning this war-"

"Listen here, you lazy frog-" 

Lafayette stood up sharply, feeling any remaining sympathy dissipate in a moment. This was not something one said because of a 'bad day', this was purely meant to insult his heritage. That was a matter of pride, and Lafayette would not stand for it.

"I am here to help America to freedom," He snapped. "I came here with the intent of working hard, and I will not _hésiter_ to lay down my life for America!" Lafayette internally groaned as the French word slipped out. 

The man noticed, also standing up from his seat on the rock. Rainwater dripped off of his hat, making the mud on his face smear down his reddened cheeks. "Enough of that- _we're_ Americans, we don't speak French, you filthy immigrant, and we don't need you ordering us around!" 

Like he'd said, Lafayette wasn't having a good day.

 

\--

 

George Washington was exhausted. 

Morale was low, the weather and the war combined, and everything seemed to be blanketed with hopelessness along with the grey night skies, clouded over angrily. Rain poured down onto the men, who were still huddled around meek fires, doing everything they could to keep warm. 

He and Alexander had been working for the last few hours, until Washington had finally put down his foot and ordered his right-hand-man to take a break. Hamilton worked too hard. Finally, he had managed to kindly convince Hamilton to take a brief break. ( _"If you don't stop now, son, I'll send you back home for disobeying direct orders,"_ Washington had snarled.)

At the moment, he felt rather in need of a break himself. 

Washington was nearly asleep at his desk when Alexander walked back into the room, looking distracted.

"Hamilton, I thought I told you to take a walk," He said in exasperation, quickly straightening himself from his slumped position. Hamilton didn't notice, however, his brow creased in thought. 

"Hamilton," Washington repeated, feeling the frustration ebb. 

The younger man looked up. "Oh, yes, your excellency?"

"What is it?"

If it weren't for the flash of hesitation on his face, Washington would've taken his answer as truth. Instead, Hamilton looked away for a moment, waited a beat too long to answer.

"It's nothing, sir- er... yes, nothing..." But Hamilton had already gotten lost in his own head once again, completely away from the conversation at hand. Washington frowned. Anyhow, he was tired himself, so he set down the pen and leaned back in his chair, placing all his concentration on Hamilton. 

"Son, tell me," He pressed gently. 

Alexander was chewing on the inside of his cheek. He waited a moment longer before straightening his posture. "It's... It's Lafayette, sir. The Marquis," He mumbled. 

"What about him?"

"I saw him walking towards the edge of camp."

Washington felt his shoulders relax. "Well, that's nothing of importance, Alexander-"

"-He had blood on his nose."

There was a long stretch of silence. Hamilton looked as though he regretted speaking. "I asked Lafayette why his nose had blood on it," The younger man continued. "And he only said that he needed some time to himself."

Washington rose to his feet, feeling tension flood back into him. He hadn't seen the Frenchman in a long while, and they hadn't been in any battle recently. There was no reason for bloodshed or injury. 

"I will go check in with him," Washington decided. "And you will go get sleep, Hamilton. You need it." Seeing Alexander's mouth opening to protest, he quickly reminded his right hand man of the threat. Direct orders were to be obeyed. Hamilton groaned, but stalked back to his own tent nonetheless. 

 

\--

 

It wasn't hard to find Lafayette. 

The Frenchman had once told Washington his favourite spot to watch the sky, on a cliff side nearby the camp, where the moon shone above a lake and the stars seemed to explode overhead.  
Of course, the sky was clouded on a night like this, but Washington had no idea where Lafayette would've gone if not for the cliff side. 

Sure enough, he walked through the treeline and saw the man, sitting down at the edge, head tilted towards the clouds. The rain had stopped significantly. 

"Seeing constellations in the clouds?" Washington teased lightly, testing the waters. He wasn't sure how the Marquis was feeling at the moment, and did not want to make light banter if the man was seriously injured or grieving. 

Lafayette jumped slightly at the new voice, but when he turned and saw his commanding officer, he relaxed and managed a small, tired smile. Relentlessly optimistic, Washington thought with a grin. The man walked over and sat down next to his friend. 

As he looked over at Lafayette from the new angle, he saw the blood clearly. 

"You are bleeding," Washington stated. 

Lafayette nodded. "Forgive me for my outward disarray, sir," He said quickly.

Washington shook his head. "There is nothing to forgive, my friend- I am merely concerned. We have not been in battle for a great number of days, and I can only imagine how you managed to break your own nose."

A long stretch of silence. 

Lafayette leaned back, taking a few deep breaths. "I am not sure if I am fit to command, _mon ami_." Washington had never heard his friend sound so resigned. And he could never imagine Lafayette saying such a thing. 

"What are you talking about?" Washington asked incredulously. "Your command kept these men alive! You were the one who led when Lee did not, you were the one who kept the troops calm in the retreat- your aide has been greatly appreciated, Lafayette."

"Sometimes I wonder. _Je ne sais plus qui je suis._ " 

At Washington's confusion, Lafayette let out a mirthless laugh. "I do not know who I am anymore," He translated. "You see, _mon ami_? Even now, as I fight in the name of Americans, I myself continue to speak in my own tongue, I continue to lead Americans even if I am not one of them."

Washington let the man speak.

"I left my country to help this one," Lafayette said with an uncharacteristic weariness. "I smuggled myself to America to fight in a revolution that is not my own, when King Louis said that France would remain neutral. I spoke for France in aide to America, I spoke for a country that did not want me to, and I am now fighting for a country that does not want my assistance."

"Who did you fight with?" Washington asked, recognizing that the broken nose was a result of in-fighting. 

Lafayette shook his head, his bun of curls flying. " _Non_ , it is not important, sir. These troops would rather have a commander who is one of their own. They want to see Americans fight for Americans, not rely on French immigrants for their revolution. I cannot deny that they may be correct."

Washington felt his heart go out to the man- his friend, someone he considered akin to a son- and nodded sympathetically. "They are defensive," He said lightly. "But they do not understand how you have helped and saved this revolution. What is an American? Someone born in America? Then who were our fathers, and their fathers? Who were those who first arrived on this continent, who had been born in England- who had only arrived here? Immigrants? Most consider them American, and yet they were not born here. Alexander Hamilton is an American, no?" 

Lafayette felt his shoulders slump, touched by the speech. " _Alexandre_ is American," He confirmed. 

His commanding officer smiled, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. "That's right, son. He wasn't born here, but this war needs him. Perhaps he passes as an American because he does not have a thick accent as you do, or because he does not confuse phrases and words. Things like that do not matter, Lafayette; you must realize this. You risked everything to fight for a country that was not your own, and in the process, I think you deserve to have the title of an American, if you so wish."

"I am of French descent, but I fear for my place as a Frenchman after the crimes I have committed," Lafayette admitted.

"I do think that in time, King Louis will understand your actions and France will benefit from them, but to ease your mind, my son, I'll remind you that even if your country does not accept you, there is always a place in America where you will be."

The rain trickled to a stop. 

Lafayette felt his eyes sting in happiness. "I would rather die than give up my French heritage, and I would rather die for America than leave you to this war by yourself," He confirmed, the note of determination back in his voice. "So I suppose, until later, I am both French and American, _oui_."

As the bleak atmosphere dissolved into something hopeful, Washington nudged his friend. "Now that we've covered that, tell me who broke your nose, Lafayette. That's an order."

 

\--

 

Apparently Theodore Samuels was released from his post the following day for in-fighting. 

Hamilton smiled when he saw the man leaving camp. "I never liked him," He said loudly. "Reminded me a lot of Charles Lee, huh? Prejudiced and a fuckin' asshole. More bark than bite, that's for sure."

Lafayette huffed out a breath. "I think that General Washington was a bit hasty. All he did was break my nose, that is hardly in-fighting. We never even dueled."

Alexander broke out into laughter. "I'd like to hear you say that to his face, Laf. Besides, we can't have anyone sullying the name of our favourite French-American hero, now, can we, Gilbert?"

French-American hero? 

Lafayette liked the sound of that.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all I apologize in advance? I'm not sure if this is offensive or not... from what I've researched (and I'm not sure if this is correct) but Lafayette went against King Louis's orders to remain out of the war, so even when France called him back, he ignored them and stayed to fight for America
> 
> Also Americans in camp weren't super great to him because he was French not 'American'
> 
> And I'm not sure if this is offensive to Lafayette bc he loves France or American people bc I basically said anyone can be American? GOD I HAVE NO RESPECT WHATSOEVER


End file.
